


Aftermath

by RenkonNairu



Series: Eternia's Dark Mirror (is brighter than you think) [1]
Category: He-Man and the Masters of the Multiverse (Comic), He-Man and the Masters of the Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Anti-Eternia, Background Poly, Denial, Established Relationship, Eternia's Dark Mirror, Family Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Keldor!He-Man, Masters of the Multiverse (comic), Poly Relationship (mentioned), aftermath of disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenkonNairu/pseuds/RenkonNairu
Summary: Based off the "Masters of the Multiverse" comic by DC and taking place in the Anti-Eternia universe.(Picks up right where the comic left off.) Anti-He-Man is defeated, the multiverse is saved and Keldor has returned home to be Anti-Eternia's new He-Man. But not everything is as happy as one would hope. The planet is still recovering and other problems arise. Meanwhile, Randor can't help but wonder about Adam. Where is he? Why did he never come home after Anti-He-Man was defeated?
Relationships: Keldor (He-Man) & Randor (He-Man), Keldor (He-Man)/Beastman/Evil-lyn
Series: Eternia's Dark Mirror (is brighter than you think) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959025
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

“…and you, Keldor?” Lyn asked, as she watched him conjure three new cans of spray paint.

He shrugged. Ebony hair, now with streaks of gray that he did not have two days ago, tumbling over his shoulders. 

Keldor offered her an asymmetrical grin. The blue skin of his lips on his right side turning upwards mischievously. The other half of his face was severely burned and scraped clean of all soft tissue. Just bare bone of his skull looking out through the curtain of his hair. The skull half of his face was always grinning with its skeleton smile. Lyn was still getting used to Keldor’s new face. 

They all were, really. 

“Well, with the palace guard now burgeoning with members from all Anti-He-Man’s freed former agents, I can return to being a bumbling, philandering Prince, who constantly disappoints his big brother the King.” He told her, directing his enchanted floating spray cans to cover over an inappropriate street-art he painted just a few days prior. 

Now it was Lyn’s turn to flash him a lopsided and teasing grin. “’Philandering’, huh?”

Keldor wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to himself. “Well, if I’m honest, I’m a bit too busy studying magic to philander more than one woman at a time.”

He leaned down to kiss her. 

Red Beast tapped them both on the shoulders. “Ahem!”

“Philander one woman and one man.” Keldor quickly amended. He opened his arm to invite Red Beast into the hug and all three of them nuzzled each other affectionately. 

After his adventure traversing the many alternate worlds of the multiverse, battling what he believed to be his dark destiny of becoming the villain called ‘Skeletor’, earning a Power Sword to become He-Man instead, defeating the evil Anti-He-Man, and holding the poor shriveled husk of his nephew, Adam, as he died in his arms… Keldor was glad to see them both again. Evelyn Powers and Red Beast were his best friends, and he loved them more than just friends. 

Keldor leaned down to finish his kiss with Lyn, then stretched up on the tips of his toes to give the same kiss to Red. Both kisses were a little awkward. All of them were still trying to adjust to Keldor missing half his lips with the rest of his face. 

Keldor wasted too much of his life afraid to commit for fear of losing the ones he loved, like Randor lost his wife and children. After his adventure, Keldor wasn’t going to continue to make that mistake. Now, he wasn’t gonna let either of them go. 

A loud avian cry rent the air and both Lyn and Red looked up. They let go of Keldor instead. 

Above them, Screech, Randor’s familiar was flying over the city. 

“King Randor warns of trouble.” Lyn announced. 

“Well, it is a world devastated by a years-long war.” Keldor shrugged again. “Sometimes even the palace guard isn’t quite enough.”

He reached a hand over his shoulder to withdraw the Power Sword he now carried everywhere. 

Lyn and Red stood back. They hadn’t actually seen Keldor’s transformation yet. Only just heard about it. 

“In fact, sometimes even Anti-Eternia needs a He-Man.” Keldor held the sword above his head and shouted words that no one else on Eternia had heard before. “By the Power of Grayskull!”

Inexplicably, the glowing crystal face of Castle Hellskull appeared behind Keldor as he was enveloped by a cascade of golden light, cascading down from the tip of the Power Sword in waves. 

His clothing vanished, transforming instead into light chest armor that barely managed to cover his chest. Just a small square over his sternum held in place by metallic bands. A decorative medallion with bones crossed in an X shape in the center. A loincloth of black fur replaced his tights, held up by a wide silver belt with some equally light armored bits hanging down in the front. His shoulders bare and his midriff was exposed, showing off abs that were surprisingly toned for someone who had been as lazy as Keldor. 

But the most extraordinary part of the He-Man transformation was not the scant clothing, or the fact that it also made him inexplicably taller, or his muscles more toned. It was his face. The burned and scraped skull half of Keldor’s face vanished, being once again covered in jewel blue skin. His disfigurement disappearing and making his face whole again. 

“I can have the power!”

“You look different.” Lyn commented. 

“Still smell the same, though.” Red added. “Any Beastmen who meet you will still be able to tell who you are even if you did change your clothes and get a little taller.”

“But will Randor be able to tell?” Keldor –or, rather, He-Man- asked. 

Both Red and Lyn exchanged a look. 

“Keldor, are you not gonna tell your brother you’re He-Man?” Asked Lyn. 

He-Man looked away. “He’s just been through so much. His son being corrupted by negative energy. The deaths of his wife and daughter. If he found out that his brother –his only living family- is using a Power Sword now… I just don’t want to hurt him any more than he’s already suffered.” 

Red shook his head. That was not a good reason. Withholding the truth would only create a rift between the brothers when they should be growing closer over the shared tragedies to their family. 

“Keldor,” he said, “you have to tell him.”

…

Anti-He-Man was defeated and his followers exorcised of the negative energy that corrupted them. The great enemy that threatened the whole planet was gone. 

That did not mean Eternia was safe. 

There were other dangers and other conflicts to threaten the peoples of the world. 

Scarcities for one. Fights over resources, for another. 

Randor had dispatched shipments of rices and grains to the most affected provinces and territories of the planet to help ease the hardship. But the shipping caravans fell prey to bandits and highwaymen. 

Exhausted from defending Eternos Territory from Anti-He-Man’s forces, the Heroic Warriors assigned as escorts for the shipments were overwhelmed and overpowered. Growing bolder, the brigands decided to attack the city of Eternos itself. Randor and his palace guard ranks filled with the warriors newly freed from Anti-He-Man’s control rode out to defend the city. 

They were also exhausted from the years-long war. Both fighting it, and being exorcised of negative energy. The brigands were also overwhelming and overpowering them. 

Swinging his sword with one arm, Randor sent his familiar back over the city to warn of the danger at the walls. They were not having an easy time of defending it and the citizens needed to be prepared for the worst. 

Trap Jaw and Tri-Klops stayed close to their King, letting the newly purified and reformed Man-at-Arms and Teela take point against the brigands. 

“It’s Anti-Teela!” A few of them recognized her as one of Anti-He-Man’s Evil Warriors. Teela was quite infamous during the years-long war. “She’s gonna eat us!”

A little less than a dozen of the bandits dropped their weapons and ran. Attacking Eternos for food and supplies was not worth it if they themselves were going to become the food. 

Randor saw those retreating and assumed the battle was already won. He lifted his sword in a victory cry …and only succeeded in leaving himself wide open for attack. 

A magical projectile streaked through the air and caught Randor in the breastplate of his armor. Knocking the wind out of him and sending him tumbling off his horse. Randor fell face-first into the dirt with a heavy OOMPH. 

He managed to roll over and get his sword up just in time to block an attack from the bandit leader. 

On his back, with the sun high in the sky, everything was thrown into dark silhouettes. 

All Randor saw was a heavy battle hammer bearing down on him. It hit the blade of his sword, making both arms shake with the force, and scraping the chainmail of his left hand. But at least the blow didn’t connect with his face. His skull would have been caved-in in an instant if it had. 

The brigand lifted the hammer for a second swing. The sun glinting off the hammer’s corner, making Randor squint. Making it harder to see the next blow that was coming. 

But the second blow didn’t fall. 

Instead, there was the distinct shift of the body above him as another collided with it. And the tell-tale “oofs” and CLANGs of two warriors grappling. 

Randor blinked. It was still hard to see with the sun in his eyes. There were spots in his vision, and he did have to squint. But it looked like… but it couldn’t be! It was true no one actually knew what happened to him. But the general consensus was that he died during the Battle of Castle Hellskull. 

His silhouette was a little different. But the sword was the same, and there was no mistaking that sword. 

The Power Sword. 

Anti-He-Man’s sword. 

Anti-He-Man was now defending Eternos? Did that mean he was also exorcised of evil, same as his minions? Was he good again? Was he… was he coming home?

Trying to sit up, Randor extended one hand, reaching out to the unclear He-Man silhouette. “Adam…?”


	2. Chapter 2

After the attack, Randor was back at the palace and having his hand bandaged by Trap Jaw when his useless, lazy, lay-about, delinquent of a younger brother swaggered in. 

Keldor, accompanied by his two friends Evelyn Powers and Red Beast. Randor didn’t really have anything about Evelyn or Red. They were actually competent and constructive. Contributing members of the court. Evelyn was a powerful sorceress and –in addition to being the one trying to teach Keldor magic- was the official Court Sorcerer since Orko was on probation after only just recently returning to himself after Anti-He-Man’s corruption. Red Beast was one of the Heroic Warriors and Keldor’s combat instructor. 

Panthor, a Dylinx cat and Keldor’s bodyguard, stalked in after them. 

Randor also noticed that none of them were at the battle defending the city today. He couldn’t help the disappointed expression that fell over his face. 

“Oh, no! What happened?” Keldor glided over to his brother, getting in Trap Jaws way to look at the injuries on his brother’s hand. 

The blade of his sword hadn’t cut into him when he held it to block the bandit’s blow. The chainmail of his glove protected him from that. But the rings of the mail did dig into his skin, scraping and abrading it when the metal shifted. The damage was shallow and did not require any stitches. But it did need to be cleaned and dressed to prevent infection. 

Randor only glared at his brother. “I guess you were too busy vandalizing city buildings to notice.” He growled. “I sent Screech over the city to warn of attack.”

“Oh. So that’s what all that noise was about.” Keldor nodded, as if suddenly just realizing. 

“Did you come in here for a reason?” Randor demanded, suddenly annoyed. “Or are you just trying to annoy me and get in the way of the people who actually are making themselves useful?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Keldor informed him, and his tone changed. Voice becoming deeper, more sober. As if he actually was aware of the battle and was genuinely concerned for his brother’s safety and well-being. As if Keldor were being serious for once. But the moment was there and gone in less time than it took Randor to actually take note of it. Keldor smiled, an empty headed smile that showed that there really wasn’t anything going on in that mind of his. “But I can see that you’re fine.” 

“Get out.” Randor barked. “Find something useful to do with yourself.”

Keldor backed away, laughing and throwing his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, I know when I’m not wanted.” He turned around and headed for the door. Shrugging his long dark hair over his shoulders, now with gray streaks that hadn’t been there two days ago. “Feel better, bro.”

Randor glared at his brother’s retreating back. Watching his friends file out of the room after him. 

“Unbelievable.” He muttered under his breath.

Trap Jaw returned to his task of bandaging his King’s hand. Undoing what he already did, reapplying antiseptic, before re-wrapping the gauze over the abrasions. 

“Nice to see his trauma hasn’t changed him.” Trap Jaw commented, his attention on his work, not looking at his King. 

“What trauma?” Randor blinked at him. 

Keldor was the second son of the late King Miro. He was never meant to inherit the throne and grew up without the responsibilities or pressures of preparing for the crown. He was privileged and spoiled. He always got what he wanted and never had to do anything to earn it. Even after Randor became King. Even after Adam was corrupted, Marlena and Adora killed, Eternia nearly decimated… Keldor remained the same. Keldor did what Keldor wanted. Regardless of others. Keldor never suffered a trauma in his life. 

“Whatever caused him to lose half his face.” Trap Jaw clarified. 

Prince Keldor didn’t always have half an exposed skull for a face. As recently as only two days before, Prince Keldor was whole and handsome, with mixed race features, human and Gar, that came together quite favorably. Whatever caused half of his face to be burned away, and scraped of all soft tissue, not even an eyeball, just dry bone; had to have been a traumatic event. 

Randor looked back down at his hand. Battlefield injuries were nothing new to him. He had been trained as a warrior almost since he was old enough to walk. But even he would agree that losing half his face would be a traumatic injury. 

He didn’t even understand why it happened. What was Keldor even doing there at Castle Hellskull? Keldor wasn’t a warrior. Keldor was barely even a sorcerer. Keldor was soft, and vulnerable, and weak. There was no reason for Keldor to be at the Battle of Castle Hellskull, and there was no reason for him to be injured. 

Yet, he was there, and he was now missing half his face because of it. 

Randor flexed his fingers, testing his range of motion with the bandages on his hand. It had been a while since he and his brother talked. Like, really talked, for real. Randor wasn’t good at it and he had little interest in the things Keldor had to talk about. 

But maybe they should talk. 

Keldor had been at Castle Hellskull and Randor didn’t know why. He-Man was still running around Eternia, but Adam hadn’t returned home to him, and Randor didn’t know why. 

Maybe Keldor knew something that Randor didn’t.

…

It looked like Keldor was getting ready for bed when Randor walked into his room unannounced. And it looked like he was having a sleepover with his friends Red Beast and Evelyn, because they were also there in their pajamas. 

He must have surprised them, because Keldor jumped up startled and shoved something under the bed. Something made of metal. Randor could hear the distinct sound of steel scraping against the stone of the floor as Keldor kicked it. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Randor asked, mildly confused. 

“Yes.” Keldor informed him. 

While at the exact same time, Red Beast and Evelyn assured their King, “Not at all.”

Randor paused, giving the three of them a moment to exchange glances and get their stories straight. Was he interrupting or not? What new antics could Keldor be doing now that were so important his brother –the King- could not interrupt?

“We’ll let you two talk.” Lyn announced. 

She took Red by the hand and together, the two of them exited the room. 

At the foot of the bed, Panthor yawned and stretched. Lifting his head, the cat examined the Prince, then the King, assessing whether or not he could continue lounging like a spoiled palace cat. After a prolonged pause, the large Dylinx hopped down from the bed and also trotted out of the room. Hooking his tail on the door as he did so and shutting it behind them with an unnecessary BANG.

Keldor and Randor were left alone. 

Randor crossed his arms over his chest. 

Keldor played with his hair, twirling one of those new streaks of gray around one finger and trying to look as innocent as possible. He wasn’t very successful. Keldor hadn’t been ‘innocent’ since he was fifteen years old. 

“Am I in trouble?” Keldor finally asked, after the silence had dragged on between them. 

“I haven’t decided yet.” Randor admitted. 

He began pacing around the room. Keldor wasn’t the cleanest person in the world, and the servants did what they could. The floor was clear of debris and the bed was made and turned down, ready to be slept in. The throw rungs were clean. Most of the décor was dusted and polished. But both Keldor’s desk and vanity were strewn with papers. Rolled up pieces of parchment, heavy cardstock, thin sheets of velum, broken sticks of charcoal, pencils and pencil shavings, pastel sticks, ink wells, jars of acrylic and tubes of oil, pigment powders, paint thinners. Father used to praise Keldor’s artistic talent, Randor always thought it was a messy waste of time. 

But then, Randor and Keldor were raised to be different things. Fulfill different roles. Randor was the son Miro had to have with the woman he had to have him with. He was his legal heir from a political marriage. He was the next in line. The future king. Trained in statecraft and diplomacy. In war in strategy. Economics and commerce. He never had time for leisure activities or creative pursuits like the arts. He always had more important things to do. 

Keldor, on the other hand, was Miro’s second son. From his second wife. A woman he married for love, not for politics. Keldor was unnecessary. Miro already had Randor for an heir and so no pressure or expectations were ever placed on Keldor. He didn’t have to study long hours into the night to please foreign dignitaries, or wake up so early in the mornings it was still night to train as a warrior. When Keldor expressed an interest in drawing at a young age, Miro called for every art teacher on the planet to come and enrich his son’s talent. 

It was a privilege Randor was never allowed to enjoy. 

Drifting over to Keldor’s vanity, Randor picked up a sheet of velum smeared with charcoal. It looked like the thing his brother had been working on most recently. 

At first Randor thought it was a self-portrait. A skull in a hood. But on closer inspection, it was not a half-skull, but a full skull, and the hood was of a more sinister design than anything Randor had ever seen his brother wear. He could have asked about it, he supposed. ‘Is this how you see yourself now, brother?’ But he didn’t really feel like feigning interest. Art was not his thing, and their father made sure that it never would be his thing. 

“If you’re not mad at me, why are you here?” Keldor asked. 

Turning from the vanity piled with unfinished sketches, Randor looked his brother right in the eyes. Glared was more like it. “Why were you at Castle Hellskull?”

“What?” Keldor blinked his one good eye. 

“How did that happen to your face?” Randor waved a hand vaguely to indicate Keldor’s half of exposed skull. 

Unconsciously, one of Keldor’s hands drifted up to run his fingers down to smooth bone, and a shadow fell over his good eye. As if remembering a horror that Randor might not understand. Maybe what Trap Jaw said was right. Maybe Keldor had suffered some kind of trauma in the interim time between when he disappeared from Eternos and when he inexplicably appeared again inside Castle Hellskull. 

But then Keldor shrugged his shoulders, flipped his hair, and smiled at his brother. Almost laughing. As if it was nothing serious at all and nothing really mattered. It wasn’t a big injury to get worked up over. “I tripped on some stairs.” He said. “I was so busy hiding in my cloak I wasn’t watching where I was going as I fled.”

Vaguely, Randor remembered shouting a command at Panthor to follow Keldor and make sure he didn’t ‘trip down the stairs as he flees’. Keldor was throwing his own words back at him. “Keldor, can you stop taunting me for five minutes? I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t wanna talk about my face. Okay?” Keldor shot back. He ran his fingers though his hair, combing it forward in front of his face to cover the exposed skull half. 

“Fine. We don’t have to talk about your face.” Randor huffed. He threw his arms up in frustration and sat down on Keldor’s bed. No one managed to irritate him as much as his younger brother did, and most of the time Keldor did it without even trying. 

“What else did you wanna talk about then?” Now it was Keldor’s turn to cross his arms over his chest. Planting his feet and striking a pose their father often took when he was running low on patience. It did not look nearly as imposing on Keldor as it had on Miro. 

Honestly, Randor didn’t know where to begin. He honestly never believed they would defeat Anti-He-Man. He never thought they would ever reach an ‘after the disaster’. He never gave any thought to ‘what happens next?’, ‘where do we go from here?’. Randor didn’t know how to pick up the pieces because he never thought he would live long enough –he never thought any of them would live long enough- to pick up the pieces. Hell! He didn’t even think there would be pieces of Eternia left to pick up. 

“Anti-He-Man’s minions have been exorcised of the evil that corrupted them.” He began clumsily. Stating things Keldor already knew. He was there, after all. “Duncan and Teela have come home. Orko is back to being a court magician. But-“

He cut himself off. Not really knowing what he was trying to say. 

“But…?” Keldor prompted, sounding once again like he was really paying attention. Like he wanted to know and that he cared. Like he was being serious. He sat down next to his brother, carful to sit on the side with his good face facing Randor. 

Randor bit the inside of his cheek. It was easier to talk to his brother when he was reprimanding the younger man for his irresponsible and delinquent behavior. That was easy. That came naturally to them. It was not as easy for Randor to confide his deeper feelings to Keldor. To allow himself to be vulnerable. Kings were not suppose to be vulnerable. 

“Since you never have any idea what’s going on around you, I’ll tell you.” Randor began, in the same tone he used when lecturing Keldor on his irresponsibility. “The city was attacked today and I rode out to defend it.” 

“That’s my brother.” Keldor smiled. “Always hard at work!”

“Keldor, would you just shut up and listen to me for once in your life?” Randor demanded. “I was defending the city and I was taken down. They had me on the ground. Their hammer poised to deal the fatal killing blow-“

“But like the true warrior you are, you pulled a come from behind victory and saved everyone!” Keldor finished for him. 

“No.” Randor snapped. “I was the one who was saved. And it wasn’t by Trap Jaw, or Tri-Klops, or even Teela, or Man-at-Arms. The sun was in my eyes, so I couldn’t get a clear look at him. But I recognized the sword and the silhouette kinda fit. I think it was He-Man. He-Man is still alive, and roaming Eternia.”

Next to him, Randor felt Keldor tense. He tapped his fingers on the bed. Thinking. It was too much for Randor to dare to hope that his brother was going to have a deeper thought and understand what he was trying to say without him having to say it. 

“You’re afraid Anti-He-Man will come back and wreak havoc again.” Keldor assumed. 

It was not a totally unfounded assumption. Perfectly rational. 

“A little.” Randor admitted. “But…” Seriously, how did people talk about their feelings? This was so hard! “Duncan, Teela, and Orko all came back to Eternos. Everyone who was under the influence of anti-Truth came back to us. …everyone except Adam.”

He felt his throat tighten and his voice choke at the mention of his son’s name and Randor cut himself off again. Took a breath to try and get himself under control. 

Why was he even telling Keldor this? Keldor was useless. Keldor couldn’t do anything. Keldor didn’t even know how to do anything. All Keldor knew how to do was make pretty pictures, deface public buildings, and disappoint his brother. Keldor couldn’t explain to Randor why his son never came home when everyone else did. And yet… …Keldor was his only living family. If Randor couldn’t talk to Keldor, then…

“He-Man is still alive.” Randor tried speaking again, throat still tight and voice strained. “I know He-Man’s alive because I saw him. I saw him, Keldor! And Adam is He-Man. Everyone else who was corrupted came home. But Adam didn’t. Adam didn’t come home, and I- and I- I-“

Randor didn’t realize he was crying until he felt Keldor wrap both arms around him. 

They hadn’t hugged since father’s funeral. 

Feeling suddenly very self-conscious and uncomfortable because of it, Randor pulled out of the hug. He didn’t feel much like talking to Keldor anymore. He didn’t feel much like talking to anyone at the moment. He just wanted to go back to his room and be alone. That was how he always handled his emotions before. Alone. That was how he was taught. He was a King, and Kings could not afford to appear weak. Emotions were not something he wanted an audience for. 

He stood to leave. 

“Randor-“ Keldor began. 

Randor cleared his throat. “I don’t know why I bothered you with you.” He announced. “Adam is not your responsibility. Nothing has been your responsibility. Ever. I don’t know what you were doing at Castle Hellskull, Keldor. But it certainly wasn’t helping. You didn’t even know there was an attack on Eternos today. You wouldn’t know anything about why my son hasn’t come home!”

He wrenched the door open. 

Lyn and Red were on the other side. It was clear by their posture that both had been listening in. 

They quickly adjusted the moment the door was open and they saw the King glaring at them. 

“…and so that’s the difference between solid wood and particle board.” Evelyn said, as if she were just finishing up a lecture on carpentry. 

“Oh. I see.” Red nodded, eyes focused intently on the door and not on their King. 

“Move.” Randor barked gruffly. He pushed his way out of the room and stomped down the hall. 

Red and Lyn watched him leave before turning to back to Keldor. 

Keldor flopped back down on his bed, covering his face with both his hands and groaning loudly. “Randor doesn’t wanna accept that Adam’s gone.”

“Can you blame him?” Lyn asked, coming into the room and crawling into bed next to him. “He watched his son sucomb to magical corruption, his wife and daughter were killed, the world they lives on and rules was almost destroyed. Now everyone else who was corrupted has returned home, but his son hasn’t. Can you blame him for hoping there’s a chance his last living child is alive and Good again?”

Red Beast shut the door after them and also climbed into bed. “All the more reason why you need to tell him.” 

Rolling out of bed, Keldor reached under it to retrieve the Power Sword he hastily shoved out of sight when his brother barged in. The blade was so clean, an almost polished shine, even though Keldor didn’t know the first thing about maintaining a weapon. It reflected the healthy half of his face. Jewel blue skin, dark eyes, dimpled cheek, and full lips with just the slightest hint of a cupid’s bow. 

“The thing is, this sword has caused so much tragedy and pain. Not just for Eternia, but for our family. Personally.”

He shifted the sword in his hand, changing the angle of the blade so that it only reflected the skull half of his face. Scraped bone, bare of all flesh. Not even an eyeball. Glaring out with its skeleton grin from a curtain of ebony hair. Like a Skeletor. Like one of his evil counterparts from all the other universes he visited on his journey. The ‘face of death’, as multiple people had called it already. 

“I don’t know how to tell Randor.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So, you’re gonna talk to your brother today, right?” Red pressed as Keldor dressed. 

Keldor frowned at his lover –one of his lovers- as he clipped his belt. It was his standard outfit of a violet tunic-style vest over a long-sleeve hooded shirt, black tights and boots. The same thing he wore every day. 

“In case you didn’t notice last night, Randor and I aren’t so good at the talking thing.” Keldor informed him. 

“I know it’ll be difficult.” Lyn added, backing up Red. “But it’ll hurt Randor more later if you let him continue to believe his son is alive. He needs to process the loss so that he can heal from it, and he can’t do that if he doesn’t believe Adam is gone.”

Keldor huffed in irritation. “Ya know, when I went on my life-changing journey of self-discovery and realization, and figured out that I really loved you guy and didn’t wanna live without you, I didn’t realize I was signing up to spend the rest of my life with a pair of nags.”

Lyn and Red exchanged a look between them. 

“You know, Red and I can go back to sleeping in our own rooms.” She pointed out. “If you’re having second thoughts about this relationship.”

Standing next to her, Red gave a nod of agreement. 

They both moved the exit the room. 

Keldor grabbed them both by the hand. “No! Wait! Please don’t go! I love you!”

Lyn flashed a smug smile. As if she’d won some kind of unspoken battle of wills. And won easily too. Keldor haf folded like a cheap suit. 

“You love us.” She repeated. “And because you love us, you were open and honest, and told us you were He-Man now. You explained about the Sword, and the absurd sounding journey you went on. You confided in us about Adam and how –at the very end- he was cleansed of his evil and returned to himself. He was your nephew again and you held him as he died. You told us all of that because you love us.”

“Well, yeah.” Keldor nodded. Wasn’t honesty important in a relationship. “So?”

“So,” Red picked up where Lyn left off. “You love your brother too, don’t you? And Adam was his son. You owe him the same level of honesty you gave us.”

Keldor pulled away. “It’s different with Randor and me.” He confessed. “We’re not all that open with each other. He’s got all these expectations of me and I never meet them. And he’s really closed off because he has this idea that Kings aren’t supposed to show emotions. I don’t think Randor and I have ever talked about our feelings. Not even when I was little. Adam was He-Man, and he went bad and nearly destroyed the world. Now I’m He-Man and I’ve always disappointed Randor before. What if he thinks… because Adam went bad and Adam was his perfect son, what’s he gonna think of his screw-up brother being He-Man now?”

Bending down, Keldor replaced the Power Sword back under his bed. Far enough in that a servant wouldn’t find it while cleaning. Keldor was quite adept at hiding contraband in his room. 

“Ya know, there’s one easy way to find out.” Lyn informed him, hands of her hips in disapproval as she watched him hide the thing that made him He-Man. 

“You won’t know until you tell him.” Red added. 

…

Randor was holding audiences in the throne room. 

Keldor was not going to blurt out in front of the whole court and every petitioner present that he was He-Man now, and that Adam was dead, had died in an alternate dimension where the source of all power was housed, and that his body could not be retrieved. All Keldor was going to do was slip in between petitioners and ask Randor for a few minutes to speak alone in private. 

That was all he was going to do when he slipped into the throne room. 

Teela, of all people, was in the middle of an audience when Keldor entered. 

Before Adam became He-Man and was subsequently corrupted, Teela had been ‘Captain Teela’. An officer of the palace guard and Adam’s personal body guard. She was a competent and capable warrior and respected officer. Adam was also quite fond of her on a more personal and decidedly not professional level (a trend Keldor observed seemed to be a constant theme across multiple Eternias). When He-Man was corrupted by the negative energy of anti-Truth, Teela was one of the first people he shared that corruption with, transforming her into ‘Anti-Teela’. 

It was not even a week yet since she was exorcised of that corruption and returned to Eternos and a position in the palace guard. Not her same position. She was no longer a captain of the guard and served no special service to the royal family. After terrorizing the planet for so long, such demotions and revocations of privileges should be understandable. As much as people wanted things to go back to normal, things could not ‘got back to normal’ over night. Things needed to be adjusted. People needed to adjust. 

Teela, it seemed, was not having as easy a time adjusting as she would have liked. 

“…I used to be a hero.” She was saying. “People trusted me to guard their back. You trusted me with you son!” 

Ooh… that was not a smart statement to make. As Keldor had learned just last night, Adam was a sensitive subject for Randor and mentioning him in a plea might not get the desired effect. Keldor lifted his eyes to his brother. 

The King showed no outward feeling. His expression did not change. It remained a stoic, and stony mask. He might as well have been chiseled from marble. But his hands did tighten on the armrests of the throne. His posture stiffened. His shoulders lifting up just a bit straighter. His face might not be expressing any emotion, but Keldor knew how to read more than just his brother’s face. Mentioning Adam had become a no-no. 

He was suddenly rethinking his resolve to tell Randor the truth about Adam, and He-Man, and what happened to them all. 

“Now people see me in the streets and run screaming.” Teela continued, oblivious to her King’s sudden turn into a foul mood. “Yesterday, when I joined the battle to defend the city, more enemies fled from fear. I did not actually fight anyone. My weapons were still clean at the end of the day.”

Randor drummed his fingers on the arm rest. He was close to losing his patience. “Are you complaining about not having to kill in battle?”

The King’s question sent a rumble through the crowd of gathered petitioners. The King questioning whether Teela had developed a taste for bloodshed and death while under the influence of anti-Truth was not going to win her any popularity contests in Eternos. Poor Teela. She didn’t need that. Keldor didn’t know her very well. She was significantly younger than him and they did not have many thing in common besides living and working (Keldor did not work) in the palace. 

Still, in every other universe he visited, on every other Eternia he saw, Teela was always a helpful ally. Even a powerful ally. And Adam did care for her. A lot. Not just all the other Adams he had met on his journey. But his Adam. His nephew. Whom Keldor held as he begged forgiveness and died. 

Using his fingers to comb his hair in front of his face and cover the exposed skull half, Keldor stepped forward, placing himself next to Teela. 

“I think what former-Captain Teela is trying to say, brother,” he began, “is that she feels out of place now in the aftermath of Anti-He-Man’s ravages. Before all the horrors –that are still very fresh in our minds- began, she was an officer of our guard. Now that rank and position no longer exists. She is trying to fill a space that does not need filling and so perhaps feels a little lost and without a purpose.”

Randor fixed Keldor with an irritated glare. “Brother, it is tradition for the petitioner to speak for themselves.” Before shifting his attention back to Teela. “Is my brother your Advocate, Teela? Do you wish for him to speak for you?”

Teela flashed Keldor an irritated glare. 

Randor’s irritation Keldor understood. Randor was usually irritated with him. There were two major expressions King Randor fixed his brother with on a regular basis. Disappointment and irritation. Teela’s irritation he did not understand. He thought he was helping her. What was the problem. 

“I don’t usually appreciate it when people presume to tell me my own feelings.” Teela began. 

Oh. Keldor mentally checked himself. Yeah. That would do it. 

“But, in this case, the Prince’s words are accurate.” She agreed, the irritation melting from her face in favor of a nod at the practicality of letting a much more eloquent member of the court Advocate for her. “Out of place and without a purpose is exactly how I feel.”

“And so how do you suggest we remedy this situation?” Randor asked. 

Teela faltered. She wasn’t used to being the focus of such a scornful tone from her King. Before the corruption, King Randor only ever had positive things to say about her and to her. Now… they were like strangers to each other. And she was a stranger that he didn’t like. Apparently. “I- I don’t know, Your Grace.”

Randor’s eyes flicked to his brother. “Keldor, since you decided to jump in as her Advocate, do you have an idea?”

Actually. He did. A sudden thought occurred to him. 

But it wasn’t one he could tell Randor.

At least not until he already told Randor the truth about He-Man, and Adam, and what really happened at the Battle of Castle Hellskull. 

But, in several of the other universes Keldor visited, Teela wasn’t just a warrior. Teela was the Sorceress of Castle Grayskull. In every universe, the Castle had a Sorceress as guardian, caretaker, and guide. Castle Hellskull of his own Eternia supposedly had a Sorceress too. But during the years-long war, when Hellskull was occupied by Anti-He-Man and his Evil Warriors, they cooked and ate the Sorceress. Now, the Castle was vacant. 

If the Teelas of other universes could be the Sorceress, why not the Teela of this universe?

But he would talk to her about it later. Not here in public. Out loud Keldor said, “Brother, you know I don’t have ideas.”

Randor’s lip curled in the beginning of a sneer. He probably wanted to say something scathing to his irritating and empty-headed baby brother. 

But he didn’t get the chance to. 

At that exact moment, Duncan, whom had returned to his old position of Man-at-Arms came bursting into the throne room. 

“Trouble in the outlying villages!” He announced. “Attacks and supply thefts. I think it’s the same bandits as yesterday. They’re raiding the smaller towns since they can’t get into Eternos.”

Randor stood from his throne. “Petitions are canceled for the day.” He announced. “Tri-Klops, Trap Jaw, with me.”

He exited out of the throne room, cape wafting behind him. Trap Jaw and Tri-Klops filing out just half a step behind him. 

Teela hesitated just a moment. Unsure if she should accompany her King and his Heroic Warriors to defend the villages, or if her services were no longer necessary. She glanced at Keldor, as if the King’s idiot brother could give her any guidance. Then sprinted after Tri-Klops and Trap Jaw. She might feel out of place now, but she was still a guard, and guards were supposed to guard the people. 

Keldor was left in a room full of people who still had petitions for the King. …and he was the King’s brother. 

Well, like hell was he gonna sit up on that throne and fulfill Randor’s responsibilities while he was away. Keldor fled the throne room too. 

He went back up to his room. Laying down on his belly, he fished under the bed for the Power Sword. 

Randor was a capable warrior and Keldor was pretty sure in most cases he wouldn’t need the help of He-Man. But Randor was tired. Both physically and emotionally, and his warriors were tired. If a lucky bandit with no special powers or unusually powerful magics could unseat him from his horse and get him on his back once, it could happen again. Keldor would feel much better if he just tagged along to make sure his brother didn’t survive the Battle of Castle Hellskull just to be killed by some no-name bandit.

…

It was a small farming village, half a day’s ride south of Eternos. 

Sprawling fields, all tilled into neat rows. Paddocks of livestock chewing cud. A-frame farmhouses on the outskirts of the village, small square shopfronts with residential apartments on top within the village itself. It was a small hamlet town. 

…It was also on fire. 

Randor and his Heroic Warriors rode in to find half the square little shop fronts with their cute little apartments already burned down. Parents pulling their children by the hands as they ran. Pets running wild in the streets. People –adults and children- carrying their belongings in their arms. 

And the bandits. Swinging their weapons, those that knew magic shooting spells. Breaking down doors and windows. Pulling goods out of the shops, stealing foodstuffs and luxuries. Not just rice, vegetables, artisanal slaughtered meats; but exotic spices and bolts of fabric. 

“Spread out!” Randor shouted to his warriors. “Teela, Man-at-Arms, put out those fires! Tri-Klops, Trap Jaw, engage the enemy. Keep them away from the town!”

Teela was quick to follow her King’s commands. She ran up to the nearest building. Which was just catching fire. There was one adult in an upper window, lowering children out into the waiting arms of a second adult already down on the ground. Teela jumped onto an awning suspended over the building front and offered an arm to help evacuate the children. 

But the parent pulled the child back in. Away from Teela and away from the safety of the outside. Hugging them closer to themselves. 

“Pass them to me, I can help.” She told them. 

“No!” The parent shouted, more afraid of Teela than of the fire spreading to their apartment. “You’ll eat them!”

A pained expression crossed her face, but she quickly schooled her features into a gentler expression. “I don’t do that anymore. I’m good again.”

There was the sound of wood popping as it burned from somewhere behind them, deeper in the apartment where the fire was climbing over the roof from the building next to them. With fewer options, the parent did pass their child to Teela, then grabbed another one that was so short she didn’t even see them from under the window sill. 

Each holding a child, both Teela and the parent jumped down from the window into the street below. 

Randor found the leader of the bandits. The same hammer wielding brute from before. 

He charged at the villain and this time he was not going to be thrown flat on his back and have to be saved by- saved by- and have to be saved! Randor was King of Eternia. He did the saving! He was going to save everyone and if Ada- He-Man, if He-Man showed up again, then Randor would save him too. …and bring him back home where he belonged. 

The sword blade collided with the heavy hammer, making the metal shutter. The tremor traveling all the way down the blade to Randor’s hands, making the abrasions on his left-hand itch. 

Ducking under a second swing from the hammer, Randor raked the blade against the brigand’s back. But only connected with the steel of plate armor. His enemy was, apparently, a very well prepared bandit. 

The brigand might have a larger weapon, and be wearing thick armor, but that also made him heavy. 

Randor kicked his feet out from under him. 

The bandit leader went tumbling to the ground. This time it was the villain flat on his back with the King standing over him poised to strike. Randor raised his sword to land a killing blow and end this now. 

The killing blow never fell. 

Randor’s body froze in place, his sword still held above his head. He felt the tingle of magic on his skin and knew he was caught in a sorcerer’s spell. He couldn’t turn his head, but he strained his eyes to look around and see where the witch was so he could shout for one of his warriors to take them out. 

Another of the bandits drifted out of his peripheral vision and Randor recognized them as the same sorcerer who got off that lucky bolt that knocked him off his horse the other day. They bent down to give the bandit leader a hand up. 

Baring his teeth was about as much as Randor could move while caught in the sorcerer’s magic and he snarled at the brigands as he struggled against the immobilization spell anyway. 

The bandit leader hefted his large battle hammer again and Randor realized with horrifying clarity that he was about to die. He was going to die right now and leave the throne of Eternia vacant –or worse- in the care of Keldor! 

The hammer came down and Randor roared a battle cry. Even if he couldn’t move, he was not going to go quietly. He was going to meet the gods screaming. 

Steaking between them from the side, the blade of a sword shot between Randor and the hammer. Doing a much better job of parrying the battle hammer than Randor’s own sword did. It blocked the attack and saved his life. 

A great sword that was large enough a normal man would need two hands to wield it. With a blade of silvered steel that almost seemed to glow from some kind of internal light. A magic sword. Not just a magic sword. The magic sword. The Power Sword. He-Man’s sword. 

“Adam!” Randor tried to turn his head to see the one wielding the blade. That sword could only be wielded by He-Man and He-Man was Adam, so-

Randor couldn’t turn his head, but the one holding the sword stepped in front of him, placing himself between the King and the brigands. 

It was not Adam. 

The hair was longer for one. Even as He-Man, Adam still maintained the same page-boy haircut he had as himself. The uniform was slightly different. The belts holding the chest plate in place were black, not silver. Randor saw how they crossed in the back when the new He-Man stepped in to protect him. The fur of the loincloth was black, not brown. The boots were violet. But the most striking difference of all was his skin. This He-Man was not pale alabaster with just the slightest hint of a sun-kissed tan as Adam had been. Instead, he was an almost uniform jewel blue. 

Blue like the sky in the late evening just before night. Blue like the deep waters of the torpical seas. The blue of a Gar. 

An absurd thought occurred to Randor. But- it couldn’t be… 

Keldor was half-Gar. But… Keldor wasn’t a warrior. Keldor was useless. 

The new Gar He-Man turned his head. Only slightly, keeping one eye on his enemies, but he wanted to look at Randor when he said, “I’m not Adam.”

And Randor got a good look at that half of his face. 

It was whole. All the flesh and soft tissue was there. Muscles and sinuses covered in blue skin with a clear complexation that was free of blemishes. Dark eyebrows, and dark eyes. A few creases on the forehead to betray concern. His lips downturned in a serious frown when he turned back around to face the enemy. 

Not a bit of it showed any exposed bone anywhere. No half-skull face. 

So, this new Gar He-Man wasn’t Keldor either. 

Under the influence of the immobilization spell, it was all Randor could do to watch and this new He-Man that he did not know beat back the bandits. Not just the leader and his sorcerer companion, but all of them. The ones stealing from the shops, the ones setting the fires. The ones harassing the people. All of them. 

Trap Jaw, Tri-Klops, and Man-at-Arms even paused to look away from their own battles or tasks to witness the knew He-Man save the day. 

Save the day…

That was something He-Man hadn’t done in –well, years! 

For years, the Heroic Warriors of Eternos had been at war with He-Man. With an evil He-Man whom had been corrupted by the negative energy of anti-Truth. Now here was this new He-Man, a different He-Man that was doing what the original He-Man always should. Save people. 

Randor should be relieved. Randor should be happy. 

But all he could think of was, ‘what about Adam…?’

After being beaten up by He-Man for a few minutes, the bandits decided the raid on this small farming town was not worth it. The leader grabbed his hammer and his sorcerer and ran. Seeing their leader retreating, all the other bandits followed suit. 

Within a matter of moments, the village was cleared out of all unwanted bandit raiders. 

“Hey!” Teela shouted at everyone else whom were all just standing around gawking at the new He-Man. “People’s homes are still burning!”

Trap Jaw and Tri-Klops moved quickly. Sprinting to the town’s well to get buckets to help douse the fires. 

He-Man stood there for a moment, almost as if he didn’t know what he should do now. The bad guys were defeated, but the people weren’t safe yet. 

“He-Man is supposed to have all these absurd powers!” Randor shouted at him. “Use one of them!”

Taking another moment to think, maybe going through a mental inventory of what powers he knew he had and knew how to use, He-Man sheathed his sword behind his back. He spread his arms wide, before bringing his hand together in a CLAP so loud it made everyone’s ears ring. 

But it also sent a blade of air pressure so fast it completely blew out the fire of the building closest to him. 

Seeing the move’s success, he repeated it on the next building. Then the next one. Moving down the street on one side, then back up the street on the other. He-Man did not stop until there was not even a spark left in the village. 

…and everyone’s ears were ringing. 

“I didn’t know I could do that.” He-Man admitted. 

“What!?” Randor called to him. His ears were ringing worst of all since –unlike everyone else- he couldn’t cover his ears with his hands. They were still holding his sword over his head from when he was frozen in place. 

“Oh. Right.” He-Man walked a circle around the King, examining the magic that was holding him. “I should warn you, I’m a bad magic student. But I think I can take care of this.”

He-Man waved his hands and muttered some arcane words and Randor felt control return to his body. He could move again. 

Lowering his arms, Randor re-sheathed his sword and looked the new He-Man up and down. 

Tall. He-Man was always tall. Adam got taller when he became He-Man too, so the height Randor was looking at now probably was not the Gar’s true height. Same for the buff shoulders and chiseled abdominals. But the face had to be his own. The face was familiar to Randor, but only vaguely. He didn’t know if it might be that this He-Man was someone he might already be acquainted with, …or if it was just that many members of the same race shared several features in common and Rabdor knew several Gar and so his mind had a handful of sources to pull from to find familiarity. (He did not want to say that ‘all Gar looked the same’! Keldor would never let him hear the end of it.)

Randor wanted to ask who he was. 

But, more than that, he wanted to ask if this He-Man knew what happened to the previous He-Man. What happened to Adam? Where was he? Why hadn’t he come home yet, when everyone else had? 

He was a King. He had every right to demand answers. 

But for some reason, Randor couldn’t quite get his mouth to form words. His throat was tight and he knew if he tried to speak he would choke. There was a pressure behind his eyes and he blinked to keep the tears from forming. Kings did not show weakness. Especially not in public surrounded by his direct subordinates and a random assortment of citizens! 

Thankfully, He-Man saved him from the embarrassment. 

“We need to talk.” He announced. Before picking Randor up and throwing him over a shoulder. 

He-Man jumped into the air. Not flying. Just leaping great distances in a single bound. It was as good as flying. 

He set Randor back on his own feet once they landed again. 

“Can you hear me now? Or are your ears still ringing?” Asked He-Man.

Randor didn’t answer him. Not exactly. Not in words. 

Randor punched him in the face. 

Right in his perfect, blemish-free blue cheek. 

He didn’t do any damage. He-Man’s skin was nearly impervious to damage. 

But Randor was emotional and experiencing an uncharacteristic mania because of it. When his first punch failed, he grabbed He-Man by one of the belts of his Power Harness and kicked at his ankles to throw the Hero off balance. He-Man was more surprised than hurt and Randor succeeded in unbalancing him. 

He-Man was thrown on the ground with Randor pinning him down. 

“Who are you?” The King demanded. “Where’s Adam!? What have you done with him?”

He-Man didn’t answer him. Not in words. He just looked up at the other man with an expression of deep sympathy. Showing such a depth that one would think he was grieving the loss of Adam as much as Randor himself was. 

It made Randor freeze. Realizing what a part of his had already guess. 

“No…” He muttered. He didn’t wanna hear it. He did not want confirmation. It was easier thinking that Adam was still He-Man and just hadn’t come home for his own reasons. “Don’t say-“

“Adam’s not coming home, Randor.” He-Man finally said. Speaking it aloud and making it real. Adam wasn’t coming home. 

“You’re wrong!” Randor insisted. “He’s just a little lost is all! I need to find him. He needs his father. I can bring him home!”

“Randor…” He-Man shook his head, sitting up. 

Randor was forced to climb off him. It wasn’t like he actually could hold He-Man, the Stongest Man in the Universe, down if he wanted to get up. 

He-Man took both of Randor’s hands in his own. “I was there. Adam is gone. He was exorcised of the corruption by anti-Truth, but the strain was too much on his body. He could no longer survive without the dark power and his body expired.”

“You’re wrong!” Randor continued to insist. 

“He was himself.” He-Man continued. “At the end. Adam was himself again. The real Adam. Before he became He-Man. He did not die a monster.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Randor demanded. “My son died alone, in the dark somewhere, his body never recovered, I can’t even give him a proper funeral and lay him to rest beside his mother and his sister, but at least he wasn’t a monster anymore! That is not the comfort you think it is! Even with all the horrors he committed, my son did not deserve to die alone!”

“He wasn’t alone!” He-Man shouted back, his own emotions running high. “I-“ He cut himself off, second guessing what he was about to say. “His uncle was with him.”

That got a reaction from Randor. A reaction other than anger. The King looked at He-Man almost disbelieving, with confusion and doubt. “Keldor? Keldor was-“ 

Keldor was at Castle Hellskull and no one knew why. Keldor wasn’t a warrior. He wasn’t even a good sorcerer. He was lazy and gave up easily if he was not immediately good at something. But, he also sustained a traumatic injury that permanently disfigured his face. Scraping away all the skin and soft tissue to be nothing more than polished bone. A half-skull face. No one knew how that happened either, and when asked about it Keldor said he didn’t wanna talk about it. 

“Is that how he hurt his face?”

Unconsciously, He-Man raised a hand to the side of his own face –the same side that was disfigured on Keldor. But he caught the motion the moment his finger tips brushed the smooth and unblemished blue skin and shifted the motion to run the hand through his hair instead. Hooking the dark locks behind one pointed ear. 

“Maybe Keldor will tell you the story of what happened to his face one day.” He-Man announced. “That’s up to him. I’m here to tell you about Adam.” 

“Keldor was with Adam?” Randor pressed. He needed to know. He needed to be sure that his boy wasn’t alone when he- when he… died. 

“Keldor held him and listened to him until he was gone.” He-Man assured him. “Adam was not alone. He had family with him.”

Randor felt the telltale pressure behind his eyes and knew he was going to cry. His throat was tight, it was gonna he hard to speak. But Rador could not cry in front of a stranger. Hell! Randor couldn’t even cry in front of his baby brother! 

“Leave me!” He croaked, turning his back to He-Man. 

“Randor…” He-Man reached out to him. “I know this is-“

But the moment the hand touched his shoulder, Randor spun around and punched him again. Another ineffective punch. “I said leave me!” He shouted. “I need to be alone!”

He-Man hesitated. 

Then turned. 

“You know I- Keldor is always there for you.” He said. “If you need someone to talk to.”

He left.

Randor broke down crying. 

…

Keldor stowed the Power Sword back under his bed while Lyn and Red changed into the pajamas and got ready for bed. 

They had been informed that King Randor arrived back at the palace some time after his encounter with He-Man, that he looked somber and defeated, but otherwise unharmed. The King went directly to his own chambers and gave strict instructions that he was not to be disturbed. It did not take a genius to figure out that the King was upset. 

“So, I guess you finally told him.” Red observed as he shrugged off his regular daywear loincloth and exchanged it for a pair of cottony briefs. 

“He needed to know about Adam.” Keldor agreed, standing back up. He climbed into bed, expecting the other two to follow him. 

“And you?” Lyn asked, peeling off her leotard and slipping on a silky night shift in its place. “Did you tell him that you’re He-Man?”

“No.” Keldor informed them. He sighed, shaking his head. “Randor needed to know what happened to Adam. The not knowing was hurting him. Now he can grieve, and yeah, he’ll still be hurting for a while. But at least now he can start healing and –maybe- one day he’ll recover from all this.”

Reaching behind him, Keldor adjusted the pillows then flopped back down. 

“But I don’t want to tell him I’m He-Man.” He continued. “It a big secret, and it’s my secret. It doesn’t affect Randor directly. It’s not like what happened to his son. It’s not something he needs to know, and I- -I’m not ready for him to know. I told you guys because me rushing off to be He-Man would inevitably affect our relationship and I wanted you guys to understand. But Randor isn’t you guys. Randor doesn’t understand me the same way you do. I will come out to him. But, not until I’m ready.”

Red Beast crawled into bed next to him. “I guess there are no right answers in difficult interpersonal situations like yours.” He leaned down to give Keldor a kiss on the mouth before settling against the pillows. “The best anyone can do if find a compromise that serves all parties.”

“Wish there was a compromise we could find for Teela.” Lyn commented, climbing into bed on Keldor’s other side. “Poor girl looked so lost when she came back from the village today.”

Oh, shoot! In all the excitement, Keldor completely forgot to talk to her. 

Next time. He promised himself. He would talk to Teela about taking over as Sorceress of Hellskull next time. 

…

END


End file.
